A Mixture of Madness
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: Teresa Lisbon goes undercover at a rehab center to catch a killer, while there she finds out things about herself that she had been keeping repressed for a long time and true love. Jisbon. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

**A Mixture of Madness**

 **A Jane & Lisbon Story**

 **Rated: T**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Author's Note:**

 **This story was loosely inspired by 28 Days and Girl, Interrupted, two of my favorite films. You don't need to watch them to know what's going on though.**

 **.**

 **Chapter 1**

"You're the rookie and the _youngest_ cop here," Samuel Bosco reminded her. "You _have_ to do it."

"What does being the youngest cop have to do with anything?" Teresa Lisbon asked, arching one of her finely trimmed eyebrows.

"It'll be more believable if _you_ go into rehab," Bosco answered, draining the last of his coffee from mug.

Lisbon was about to give one of the smart replies that she was becoming famous for around the SFPD when Bosco stood up and shook his head.

"Sorry kiddo, the paperwork has already gone through," Bosco told her.

He might as well have added on _and there's nothing you can do about it_. Lisbon sighed and ran her fingers through her dark pixie cut, thoroughly annoyed with her new boss and his thought process.

Because the tabloids were filled with reckless young female celebrities who abused substances on a daily basis and were carted to rehab in lieu of a jail sentence, it automatically made _her_ believable for an undercover job at the local facility.

When the truth was, she didn't touch anything that could become addictive. Especially not after her father had crawled into a bottle and never came out after her mother had been killed by a drunk driver when she was a kid.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think I'm the person for the job!" Lisbon finally asserted. "I've never smoked or done drugs or drank before."

It was Bosco's turn to raise _his_ eyebrow. "A good Catholic girl like you? Come on, there has to be _some_ skeletons in your closet."

Lisbon shook her head. "Nope. I'm as clean as a whistle."

Except for the time she had slept with boyfriend Greg, but she had justified her actions by telling herself they were in love and going to get married one day. But _that_ was hardly any of Bosco's business.

"Well, it's called _acting_ ," Bosco said.

"Yeah, I'm not a very good liar."

"Lying and acting are hardly the same thing."

Lisbon frowned. "Actually. . ."

"I don't want to hear one more word about it Lisbon!" Bosco snapped. "I'm sorry to tell you, your number is _up_. So, you're going to rehab whether you like it or not."

Lisbon pursed her lips together and breathed through her nose. "Yes _sir_ ," she answered, getting to her feet and leaving his office in a huff.

She unbuttoned her blazer and shoved her hands in the pockets of her new slacks and went in search of coffee. The pot was empty but her fiancé, Marcus Pike was getting off the elevator and coming towards her.

"Lunch?" He asked, giving her a quick kiss because there were people around watching them and she wasn't one for public displays of affection.

"Yes, _please_!" Lisbon answered.

 **.**

She told him about the new case after they had both ordered Cokes and sandwiches and found a place to sit in the park.

"I heard about that case on the news this morning," Marcus said. "Patients keep dying at the Idlewild Rehab Center. Do they think it's a patient or a nurse?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," Lisbon answered.

" _You?"_ Marcus asked in disbelief as he munched on a chip. "Honey, do you think you're the right person for the job?"

"Yes," Lisbon lied. "I'm as good as any seasoned detective on the force."

"You're not a very good liar," Marcus reminded her.

"I know _that_!" Lisbon snapped in defense. "But solving this case could be good for my career! I don't want to spend the rest of my life working for the San Francisco Police Department!"

Which wasn't exactly true, she'd only worked with them for six months and hadn't thought much of what she would do _next_. She was still trying to get settled in and find footing here; she figured there would be time to figure out what to do next later.

"Okay! Okay! There's no need to get all defensive about it!" Marcus answered, spreading his hands out in truce. "So, Idlewild. . . you know Lorelei Martins just checked in there for 'exhaustion'?"

"Lorelei Martins?" Lisbon repeated. "Isn't she one of those Paris Hilton wannabes?"

"She runs with their crowd," Marcus answered. "Just did a stint on Days Of Our Lives. She was _awful_. Anyways, I saw an article this morning that she checked into rehab."

"For exhaustion, I know, you told me. Something tells me you don't believe it's really for exhaustion though," Lisbon said.

"I think it's just a cover for what's really going on," Marcus replied, pointing to his nose in indication.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Whatever. It isn't any of _my_ business."

"Yes it is, you're going to be going to joint counseling sessions with her. Sharing your _feelings_ , getting all warm and cozy. Braiding each other's hair."

"Yeah, if she mentions a cocaine addiction then I'll be and _not_ let you know," Lisbon said. "And another thing, its rehab. Not sleepaway camp in Canada!"

"When do you check-in?" Marcus asked.

"Tomorrow," Lisbon answered.

Marcus patted her on the hand. "You'll do great. I'm sure you'll be back in a week with the perpetrator in handcuffs!"

Lisbon shrugged. "Maybe."

But she doubted it.

 **.**

The next day, dressed in black leggings and a sweatshirt her father had worn in college, smeared mascara and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, Bosco checked her into Idlewild. He made a big show of bringing his youngest _sister_ to rehab; he actually was crying while he told her (loudly) to get well and asked the nurse to look after her because she was the only family he had left.

The head administrator, Brooke Harper smiled, commenting on what a good brother he was and promised to take good care of her for him. She had been clued in on how to act earlier that morning, she was part of the elaborate charade and she played her part well.

He hugged her and was gone in a flash, pulling a Kleenex out and wiping away his tears as he left her alone on the job for the first time since she had started working with the SFPD.

"Let me just run you through the rules, Miss Bosco!" Dr. Harper said a little too loudly. "You can't have illegal substances on the property at any time that includes alcoholic beverages. There will be no male visitors in your bedroom. Visiting hours are from between two and four PM, you cannot leave the premises unless it is a field trip planned by someone on staff. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Lisbon answered, taking the cigarette out of her mouth and exhaling. She almost choked on the smoke, she had only taken a puff of a cigarette once and she had thrown up all over her Mary Jane's.

"You can only smoke _outside_ ," Dr. Harper added, pulling the cigarette away from her and dropping it on the floor. She crushed it with the heel of her shoe and gestured for Lisbon to follow her. "Come and meet everybody in your group now."

"Okay," Lisbon said, wrapping her arms around her waist and trying to look troubled.

"Everybody's having lunch right now," Dr. Harper told her as she led her to the cafeteria. "You don't have to eat if you don't want to; your records say an eating disorder is one of your problems."

"I know," Lisbon replied. "I was briefed on my assignment before coming."

Dr. Harper's lips twisted into a smile and she pushed the cafeteria door open. "Good. Now come along, the sooner you get settled in the better."

Dr. Harper brought her to a table at the far end of the cafeteria. It was overlooking a sparkling lake and there was a group of some of the most beautiful people that Lisbon had ever seen sitting together and eating what looked like cheeseburgers and fries. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything since six AM that morning. She groaned it was going to be a long day.

"Hey Dr. H!"

"Walter," Dr. Harper said, adjusting her glasses. "How many times have I told you _not_ to call me, Dr. H?"

"Sorry," Walter answered, not looking apologetic at all.

Dr. Harper sighed. "Teresa, this is Walter Mashburn. He's one of Forbes Fifty Richest Men."

Lisbon nodded sullenly. She knew who he was; she'd seen him on Forbes and Time magazine. She was slightly surprised to see him there; he had just funded a nationwide campaign to keep kids off drugs and in school. His face had popped up in several magazines with the slogan " _just say no!"_ printed in bold letters across his designer suit.

Walter smirked. "I'm a sex addict."

"Walter! Please, I'm eating here!" Lorelei Martins said in disgust.

"Isn't today's assignment to share what's wrong with us?" Walter retorted, rolling his eyes at her.

"That's enough you two!" Dr. Harper interjected. "Teresa, I'm sure you know who Lorelei Martins is?"

"Yeah," Lisbon answered. "My mom watches Days Of Our Lives."

"Lorelei, why don't you share what you're in for?"

"Cocaine," Lorelei replied, looking down at her pile of French fries.

"Among other things," Walter added.

"Walter!" Dr. Harper chided like he was a little boy and she was his mother. "We talked about this; don't share other people's problems unless they say you can."

"Don't you mean _addictions_?"

Dr. Harper sighed. "Patrick, I thought I told you not to be so blunt."

"Wait!" Lisbon said. "Patrick? Like Patrick Jane, the world-renowned psychic who dropped off the face of the earth two years ago?"

"He's one of Idlewild's permanent residents," Walter shared.

"Walter! Come with me _right now_!" Dr. Harper said in exasperation. "Teresa, dear, make yourself at home. Okay?"

"I always knew you wanted me," Walter commented as he followed her back to her office.

"That is wildly inappropriate," Dr. Harper answered.

"When I'm not a patient anymore then?" Walter asked suggestively.

"Come and sit down beside me, Teresa," Lorelei said when patient and doctor was gone.

"Okay," Lisbon agreed, dragging her feet and sitting down.

"You're not famous, are you?" Lorelei asked.

Lisbon shook her head. "Nope."

"What's your problem?"

"Lorelei, _really_!" Patrick said. "You don't have to tell her if you don't want to."

"Isn't that what we're supposed to do though?" Lisbon asked sarcastically. "Share our problems?"

"Technically you're not part of that assignment," Patrick answered. "You weren't here when they told us to do that."

"Oh but I wanna know!" Lorelei said.

"Well, she doesn't have to tell you," Patrick reminded her gently. "She'll talk to us when she's ready to. You know how scary your first day is here. It's a little overwhelming."

"Yeah," Lorelei admitted. "It is. Sorry for being a busybody."

"Well. . . just make sure it doesn't happen again!" Lisbon replied, drumming her fingers on the Formica table and trying to seem angry.

She didn't notice the strange looks Patrick was giving her or that he suspected something was going on that didn't have to do with addictions.

 **TBC. . .**

 **.**

 **Author's Note II:**

 **Well, there's the first chapter in my second to last story. Somebody asked me if my last story is going to be Jane-centric and I can tell you that, yes, it will be. But for now, I hope you'll tell me what you thought about** _ **this**_ **story. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!**

 **Until Next Time!**

 **Love,**

 **Holly, 6/12/2015_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Shout-Outs: Nelapl, MartyMc49, KatariJisbon, peanutbuttercookie, DaboGirl, scandinaviencold, KrrdmN, Guest, macisgate, Guest, Guest and blueyedmentalistfan**

 **Rated: T**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **.**

 **Chapter 2**

"You're not like a typical rehab patient," Patrick said, following her out of the dining common.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lisbon answered. "I need therapy just as much as any girl in here does."

"Oh, really? You don't look like any of the typical cases here," he replied. "You're not too skinny like the anorexics and bulimics. And you're definitely too healthy looking to be a drug or alcohol addict. So, what are you doing here? Are you writing a hard-hitting exposé about rehab centers? No. You're not the journalist type."

"Will you please just leave me alone?" Lisbon asked.

"What are you hiding?"

"I am _not_ hiding _anything_!" Lisbon retorted irritated with the infuriating man who had latched onto her. She whirled around and looked at him. " _What_ are you hiding?"

"Excuse me?"

"Two years ago, you were one of the most well-known psychics in the _world_. _Opera_ endorsed you and then one day, you just disappeared. Something had to happen? Are _you_ a drug abuser? Or a sex addict like Walter Mashburn?"

Patrick looked disgusted. "I am _nothing_ like that. The only kind of drugs I've ever touched is the stuff the doctor prescribed for me or Tylenol for headaches and I'd even prefer not take _that_. It's awful for your liver, you know."

"So, what are you doing here then? Are you exhausted like the tabloids are saying Lorelei is?"

"No," Patrick answered. "But we were talking about you, not me."

"I'm a drug and alcohol addict with poor body image," Lisbon replied all but giving him the middle finger and walking off. She hadn't counted on anybody making her case difficult and Bosco hadn't briefed her on what to do if somebody figured out she wasn't what she said she was.

"You know when you're trying to con somebody the way to make it believable is by telling one truth and two lies."

Lisbon glared at him. "Well, what do you know anyways?"

"I was a con man once," Patrick answered. "That's basically what psychics do. They _con_ people for money."

"So, I can see you're into the whole sharing thing," Lisbon said.

"Just being honest."

"Well, go and be honest somewhere else. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"I'm going to figure out why you're here," Patrick informed her.

"Yeah, good luck with that!" Lisbon retorted.

"Remember, I _was_ one of the best psychics in the world," Patrick reminded her. "You said so yourself."

"Um, no, I said you were world-renowned. There's a difference," Lisbon answered. "I never went to any of your shows or watched you on TV. I wouldn't know if you were a better psychic than Madame Zola."

"Well, you're only one person. . ." Patrick started but was promptly interrupted by Dr. Harper.

"Patrick, aren't you going to be late for your one-on-one with Dr. Miller?" She asked, interjecting into their argument.

"I was just going," Patrick answered, looking at Lisbon. "Lovely chatting with you. I look forward to conversing with you some more."

"Wow," Dr. Harper said when he had disappeared.

"Wow what?" Lisbon asked.

"That's the first time I think he's talked to anybody like _that_ since he's come here," Dr. Harper told her. "He's usually a lot more reserved."

Lisbon snorted. "Him? _Reserved?_ I hardly believe it. He certainly likes to give his opinion _freely_."

Dr. Harper laughed, she hoped that Agent Teresa Lisbon would prove to be exactly the kind of challenge Patrick needed to finally get out of himself and move on with his life. As much as everybody at Idlewild enjoyed having him around, they were ready to be rid of him.

"Well, try and be kind to him," Dr. Harper said, sobering quickly. "He's had a hard couple of years."

"Obviously," Lisbon answered. "What's his story, anyways?"

"For the sake of the case?" Dr. Harper asked. "You definitely don't have to worry about him. Yes, he lied to people to make money but Patrick Jane wouldn't hurt a fly, unless he was protecting somebody that he cared about. In fact, I don't think any of my patients are capable of murder. They all care about each other too much to do that."

"Maybe somebody cared too much, decided to put a patient out of their misery?" Lisbon suggested.

"Maybe somebody on my staff did it but I won't ever believe any of the inpatients here did it," Dr. Harper said firmly.

"Okay," Lisbon answered. "So, what's going on with Patrick?"

Dr. Harper eased up considerably and smiled a little bit, the tension between her eyes disappearing ever so slightly. "I think you're just going to have to ask him for yourself, detective. It isn't my place to tell my patients stories."

"Fine."

"Let me know if you need anything," Dr. Harper said. "You have free reign here, just try to be conspicuous. We don't want anybody to be suspicious of you, okay?"

"No, of course not," Lisbon answered, tugging the sleeve of her sweatshirt over her hand and smiling at the doctor.

After her conversation with Dr. Harper, Lisbon went outside. Lorelei was sitting on a bench and smoking a cigarette and unwrapping a package of bubble gum. The socialite smiled at her and waved her over.

Lisbon joined her and sat down.

"Do you smoke?" Lorelei asked, offering her a cigarette.

"Um. . . not really," Lisbon said honestly. "I mean, I did once. I puked my guts out."

"It helps with the withdrawals from other things," Lorelei told her as she puffed away on it. "So, how did you finally decide to get clean?"

The question took Lisbon aback; it was one of the things that she hadn't discussed with Bosco. She thought for a minute and released a deep breath, borrowing from her father's story. "I was high one night and I wound up hurting my brother so bad he needed to go to the ER. That's when I decided to get clean. Because I didn't really want to hurt the people I love. Or myself even."

"Wow," Lorelei exhaled. "I woke up in my own vomit and none of my friends were around to help me out. I decided I needed to start taking care of myself since nobody was going to take care of me."

"Alcohol?"

"I was drunk out of my mind," Lorelei admitted. "That's the part they don't tell you in the tabloids. They want to glamorize everything and it really isn't glamorous."

"Tell me about it," Lisbon agreed because she had to.

"Was it alcohol with you?" Lorelei asked tentatively.

"Yeah," Lisbon said. "And prescription drugs. Not a very good combination."

Lorelei nodded her head in agreement. "I've been there. It's fun while it lasts but after it goes away, you feel terrible. And you swear never to do it again but that night, it's the same old story. You put your club clothes on and go out seeking the next thrill even though it'll end the same way."

Lisbon suddenly felt sick to her stomach and for the first time, she felt like she was really seeing the girl who looked up at her from the glossy pages of _People_ and _US Weekly_. She wanted to scream at any of the other teenage girls who aspired to be like Lorelei Martins to run away as fast as they could. She was sure the heiress would do the same thing.

Lorelei looked so dejected; she decided to change the subject.

"Hey Lorelei, could you tell me about the girl who was murdered here?"

Lorelei discarded her used cigarette and lit another way. "Kristina Frye. She was a total schizo. They were talking about moving her to a long-term facility because they couldn't treat her here anymore. The next day she wound up dead. I'm surprised you know about it, they were trying to keep it hush-hush."

"Well, you know how things like that have a way of getting out," Lisbon answered.

"True," Lorelei said. "Did you know her? She was a psychic like Patrick used to be. Except on a smaller scale. Her business was located in Sacramento. You know what they say about playing with spirits, well, it finally caught up with her. She actually got to the point where she thought she was _talking_ to them. It was a real mess."

"I see," Lisbon replied.

"She was my roommate," Lorelei told her. "She needed, like, a dozen pills before she could even get to sleep. It was very disconcerting. No matter how annoying it was, it was sad that she died. I actually liked her a lot. She was the only one who didn't treat me like a celebrity, probably because she was too far gone to realize who I was. But it was still nice."

"I'm sorry," Lisbon said hollowly.

Lorelei shrugged and switched gears. "So, I hear you're going to be my new roommate."

"Yes."

Lorelei grinned. "I hope you don't snore! Or talk in your sleep."

"Well, nobody's ever told me that I do either of those things," Lisbon assured her.

"Good! I gotta go," Lorelei told her. "I have a meeting with my therapist. The one-on-ones are such dull things; they're my least favorite part of this whole rehab thing. I don't really think they help that much, but it's required. I'll see you around Teresa."

"Okay, 'bye Lorelei!" Lisbon answered, watching as she stuffed her cigarettes into her pocket and disappeared.

"I see you were talking to our resident basket case," Walter said as he took Lorelei's place. "Did you learn anything enlightening?"

Lisbon was startled and then she recovered quickly when she realized the billionaire was talking about Lorelei and not anything else. "No," she answered.

"We slept together," Walter divulged. "We both came the same day and we met at the airport, I had my taxi driver take a detour. I bet you didn't know she was a slut, the tabloids conveniently forget to mention that part about her personality."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. "You're repulsive. Forbes and Time conveniently forget to mention that about _your_ personality. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere else I have to be."

"Oh? And where's _that_?" Walter asked.

"Anywhere you _aren't_!" Lisbon replied.

She went back inside and decided to go to her room and unpack her suitcase before she started her investigation. But she had just gotten back into the hospital when was stopped by an older gentleman.

"I'm Brett Stiles," he said. "I'm your counselor; do you have a few minutes to talk with me, Miss Bosco?"

"Um. . ." Lisbon trailed off. "I guess so."

"Good," Dr. Stiles said. "If you'd just follow me, we can talk privately in my office."

 **.**

"So, Agent Lisbon, they gave us your actual file so we could know more about you and I have to say you have a tragic past."

Lisbon bristled. "Hey, I don't need you to analyze me. I'm here to do a job and that's all."

"I know," Dr. Stiles said kindly. "But this is part of making it more believable. And I just thought if we could talk about things that were really going on in your life."

"Yeah, well, I'm fine. I was already cleared by the SFPD's shrink. I don't think I need to talk about it anymore."

"Oh Teresa, dear, you are _always_ going to have to talk about it though. It's a part of who you are, you know. You'll have to tell any bosses about your past, your future lovers, and your children. All of them will have to know about how your past shaped you. Especially the people you choose to love."

Lisbon stood up. "Well, I'm already engaged. So, that's one bullet I missed."

"You should tell him," Stiles answered. "What kind of intimacy can you _ever_ have if you don't?"

Lisbon stood up. "Well, you know what; you're not my real shrink. So, I don't have to listen to you. Now, if you'd excuse me, I am wasting valuable time talking to you when there's a murderer still walking around these corridors and I intend to catch them."

 **TBC. . .**

 **.**

 **Author's Note:**

 **Real life is crazy again. There is so much going on; I hardly had time to write this week. I baby-sat and helped my mother with the house. And then I got bit again by something, so I'm on allergy medication and it's making me sleepy. I tried to have this chapter ready for last night but the kids I'm baby-sitting this summer showed up to go see** _ **Inside Out**_ **with my sisters and I, so I wound up watching ANT Farm and making Father's Day cards. So, yeah, there's** _ **this**_ **week's excuses.**

 **I am sorry for the delay. I promise the story will be case-centered even though I am not that great with casefics. One last thing, I do not know a lot about sexual addiction, so I may not be portraying it in the right way. But I do think Walter Mashburn would be cocky regardless of what is going on in his life. Please tell me what you thought!**

 **Until Next Time!**

 **Love,**

 **Holly, 6/20/2015_**


	3. Author's Note

**Dear Reader,**

 **I am sorry to confess this story is not bringing me** _ **any**_ **joy to write. I have had the idea for years and now that I am writing it, it brings me no pleasure. I get more excited about writing Josh & Maya (Girl Meets World) and Sherlock & Joan (Elementary) fan fiction. I am more excited about writing my novel than this story. And the sad lack of reviews, four, have discouraged me even further. I am sure if several of the other "big" name authors in this fandom was writing this story, they would have dozens of reviews. **

**But it is not about that.**

 **I don't do it for the reviews. I never have. I did it for the pleasure of writing, because of my love for Jane and Lisbon and the desire to see them together. I did it to become a better writer, which I have, thanks to the dedication I put into writing Mentalist stories.**

 **So, I am deleting this story this weekend and starting a new one. That story will most likely be my last one unless I come up with an idea I absolutely love for the Christmas season. But I am not making any promises because I don't even know where I'll be in terms of stories and things come November when I usually write my fan fiction. I might just do a one-shot, not a multi-chapter. It all depends on things I can't even see right now.**

 **I hope you all understand where I am coming from.**

 **Love,**

 **Holly, 6/25/2015_**


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